


That Doesn't Count

by Dissipating_Mango



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien Biology, Comedy, Frottage, Grinding, Heavy Petting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Tragic levels of denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22283380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissipating_Mango/pseuds/Dissipating_Mango
Summary: Sometimes, the lines between fighting get a little blurry. Sometimes the lines are blatantly obvious, but your name is Dib
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 281





	That Doesn't Count

**Author's Note:**

> wow look at that, so I can write something light-hearted from time to time after all :D

Normally when Dib walked down the stairs, it was an uneventful experience of de-escalation in a step by step manner, greeted with nothing more then level ground at the bottom. Instead of still air however, his face was met with the sharp plastic corner of a TV remote. 

" _Owwwwwwww_ ," he whined. Dib rubbed the newly tender side of his face. "What the hell Gaz! What was _that_ for!?" 

"Serves you right, you perv." 

"Huh?" 

An exacerbated sigh bounced off the couch and into Dib's ears.

"I don't care what freaky shit you get up to, but do it somewhere else," she groaned. "Or at least tell Zim to shut up when you two are fucking, I'm gonna have nightmares..." 

Dib paled. _Fucking?_ Did he hear her correctly? 

"That's- WOW _no_. We aren't- how could you even _think_ that!?" 

"You're kidding right?" Gaz deadpanned. "You don't have to hide anything from me Dib, I'm not gonna judge you for your lousy taste." 

"I don't have lousy taste!" He paused. "Wait! I mean, I don't have taste at all! Or, uh..." Gaz raised an eyebrow. "I am NOT having sex with Zim!" He cried, arms in the air.

"So... 'I'm gonna feel you up inside until you're screaming for mercy' is-" 

"-is what enemies say to each other _yes_ ," Dib interrupted. "You're taking that out of context, I didn't mean that in a, in a _sexual_ way." Although hearing those words come from someone's else's mouth Dib could admit it sounded a tad, suggestive. 

Gaz blinked. 

"And Zim's moaning after you said that was, what, a cry of agony?" 

" _Yes._ " 

She rolled her eyes. "Right. And your explanation for 'you look so good underneath me' is, what exactly?" 

Red hot embarrassment burned itself across Dib's cheeks. 

"Stop taking everything I say out of context!" 

Gaz smirked with such an evil smile Dib was beginning to wonder if she was secretly part Irken. She had the ruthless personality to be a far more intimidating invader then Zim ever managed to be, that was for sure.

"You're right, it's unfair of me to leave Zim out of this. I'm sure he was only saying 'don't' and 'stop' as seperate phrases, right?" 

His scowl was no match for Gaz's unbreakable smug grin. He had just enough sense to know when he had been beat, and beat he was. 

"...I think this conversation is over," he mumbled before sulking back to his room, his motivation for coming downstairs long forgotten. 

  
How could Gaz imply they were doing, _that?_ They were _enemies_ for crying out loud! Any physical contact made while fighting was just how it was, it was in the nature of the beast, for the sake of humanity and stuff. And if Gaz chose to percieve that as some kind of weird sexual thing, well, that was her problem. Because it wasn't. At all. Not even in the slightest. 

Dib wasn't getting the least bit excited thinking about their last encounter, about forty minutes ago.

____

"Are you prepared to face the wrath of ZIM!?" 

The bug eyed alien popped through his window for the fourth time this week, little legs struggling to meet the ground before he finally posed dramatically. Dib swerved out of his chair and stumbled into a somewhat defensive pose. 

" _Again?_ Geez Zim you just can't get enough of me can you?" Dib smirked, hands balled into fists. He swung once, Zim expertly dancing around his attack and dodging the second swing. 

"I see your _stupid_ giant head plenty _Dib_. I'm only here to retrieve what's rightfully mine." 

"But I didn't take anything from you-" 

"SILENCE!" Zim shouted. "I will be doing the taking!" 

A small black boot hit Dib in the gut and knocked him to the floor. Elbows red with carpet burn, he grimaced and tackled Zim, pinning his little arms away from his body. A satisfying clunk, Dib grinned at his success. 

  
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna take from me space boy?" Dib asked. A little breathier than perhaps accurate to his level of exhaustion. 

"Victory," Zim sneered. "And I don't recall saying it belonged to _you_ earth-stink." 

Zim wiggled, legs spread as his feet scrambled for purchase. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Dib closed the gap between their bodies, bellies flush. Zim felt like an oven door in the most pleasant of ways.

"You'll never be victorious Zim, not while I'm here." 

Was he moving, or was it just the harsh pulse pounding like crazy in his ears? He certainly felt squirmy but his mind and body seemed be running into a disconnect. Skin like static, pupils wide; his bedroom faded into a fuzzy nothingness. Zim arched into his languid, absentminded rocking, tongue poking out to wet his lips. Eyes half lidded. 

"When I conquer this filthy planet you'll be nothing but my pathetic slave. I'll lock you up and force you to..." His words trailed off, gloved claws digging into blue cotton. Heavy breaths from both parties. "To watch the human race p-perish..." 

Zim panted. His bottom lip was decorated with light indentations. Their faces so close, Dib couldn't help but pull it between his teeth and bite. Elastic skin snapped back and Dib groaned, setting a faster pace of rocking. If someone didn't know any better, it might've looked a little like uncoordinated dry humping. 

But only if they didn't know any better.

  
"That's what you think Zim but I'm gonna catch you first. I'll- I'll tie you up and give you to the government and prove everybody wrong!" He keened, heat flaring up in his belly. "And then, _ha_ , I'm gonna cut you open. Watch all your organs wiggle around while they film your dissection. I'm gonna feel you up inside until you're screaming for mercy." 

The gaspy, feral noise Zim made only egged him on further. His hands migrated towards the swell of his hips and no longer restrained, Zim rolled them over so they could face each other on their sides. He shoved a thigh between Dib's legs, pale hands squeezing his rear while Zim laughed maniacally. 

"Cut me open? Never!" He paused to exhale roughly, muscles tensed. "Zim is great! I will never be caught by someone as dimwitted and-" his tongue wiggled into the open and tasted the air. "-and delicious smelling as you!" 

He licked a stripe along the dewy skin of Dib's neck. Groaning, Dib pulled the invader as close as he could, hips not stopping for a second. 

"Yeah? _Mmf_... Do I taste delicious too?" 

"Unfortunately," Zim breathed into his ear before licking him again. A hand trailed to the bottom of his shirt and shoved its way inside, latex gliding over hard nipples before pinching. A coded message; part of their script.

  
On cue, Dib pulled the wig away and tossed it across the room, taking one antenna with his fingers. Almost instantly, Zim squealed and ground against him, the noise addictive and raw. He rolled them over again, Dib back on top. Zim splayed, open as a broken window. 

"You look so good underneath me." 

With a fist curled around his feeler, green eyelids fluttered and hands went back to feeling up Dib's chest. Not that he was one to complain, especially about something that felt good, but he found it fascinating Zim's hands always made their way there. If he had to guess, it probably had something to do with how foreign it was to him. Pink lips sucked the tip of an antenna. 

Yeah, he could understand that appeal. 

"Yes! Keep going! Don't stop, don't stop, don't STOP!" Zim cried, the sharp heels of his boots digging into the small of his back. His groin hot against Dib's leg. Warm, tingly, and just as everything was ooey gooey and deliciously smooth, a lightbulb went off in Dib's head. Keep going? What if...

With a blurry movement, Zim's antenna flicked out of his hand and Dib watched his own fingers shove underneath shiny black pants. 

No plan. Only unrestrained wanting. 

The soft pads of his fingers rubbed explortively against a thin wet opening. This was new. This was new and intoxicating and at first Dib wondered if he pushed a little too far, a little too fast, a little too eager. But Zim's whines and weak bucking were a green light to go and adolescent curiosity floored it.   
  
Whatever slick appendage was suddenly wiggling around his fingers excited him; it felt soft and wet, kinda like a weird tongue. He just had to see it.

Running off lust and intuition, Dib shoved his leggings down, exposing a curling pink tentacle. Oh fuck, was that his dick? It leaked a translucent fluid that made it look shiny-wet in the open air, leaving Dib's mouth watering with possibility. He didn't even notice he was palming himself over his jeans until a blushing Zim made a grumbly little sound that only halfway snapped him back to reality. 

Mumbling something about an 'ignorant lack of modesty' to himself, Zim yanked Dib's pants down to even the score. Purple eyes locked on his rigid, inflexible length that twitched at his hard gaze, and it was Dib's turn to change colors. Breath held, they sat for a pregnant beat, Dib's senses both somehow running at zero and one hundred all at the same time as his heart pounded. Everything completely still except for Zim's wriggling anatomy.

  
And then, as if both counting on three, they yanked the other closer at the same time. Twin gasps filling the silence and melting into lips meeting. 

Zim's tentacle curled around Dib's length and he dug claws into his shoulders. Thrusts awkward and sloppy with no real rhythm, they rocked against each other like a pair of horny puppies, confused and desperate for an ambiguous release.   
  
Eyes closed, Dib wasn't exactly sure if what they were doing could be described as kissing so much as a flailing of lips and tongues and moans like crashing waves. Zim felt solidly real, warm against his skin, wet against his cock.

The sting of his claws was the only sign this wasn't just another wet dream. 

"Ha, oh my...God...that's good," Dib panted. "You feel so good, I wanna..." 

He had no idea what he wanted anymore except that he _needed_ it. 

On impulse, he grabbed Zim by the antenna and stroked, eliciting a wonderful whine that had him rutting even faster. This was great. This was beautiful. What he wouldn't give to have his ~~least~~ favorite alien writhing and moaning under him every afternoon. Oh god, he was close. 

With a loud, squealing-yelping noise that only Zim could ever make, he thrust himself against Dib and came hard, body clenched tight around him for several seconds as he spilled shiny pink onto their clothes and fell limp. Dib ground against Zim's pliant body as his orgasm was coaxed out of him, eyes scrunched tight while pleasure exploded under his skin and manifested. 

Collapsing on top of Zim was the easy part, the Irken mindlessly allowing their legs to tangle together lazily. No, the hard part was compartmentalizing what exactly just happened. An act of passion? A release of tension? It was a back and forth, an evolution perhaps, but ultimately nothing new when it came down to it. Really, the only difference here from their most recent run-ins was this time their pants were _down_. Which, in Dib's opinion, was a lot more dignified then creaming his jeans like he had been doing for the past month or so. 

Longer than that, if he was being honest with himself. His hormone ridden body was all too overjoyed to have _any_ contact, even the kicking, squirming, punching kind. 

But this was definitely perferable. 

Zim wiggled out of his grasp and Dib had to remind himself, just like every time the spent alien left his arms, that shouldn't make him upset.

Didn't. That _didn't_ make him upset.

Wig readjusted, Zim stood proudly, like there wasn't obviously cum on his clothes. An image Dib definitely _wasn't_ going to think about later for unsavory reasons. 

"You may have defeated me this time, but I'll be back when you least expect it! Back and armed with defeat resistant...stuff!" 

Dib blinked. "I didn't defeat you." 

"Oh you didn't?" Zim paused. "Well, then that's too bad! I will return even MORE defeat resistant than I already am!" 

"Yeah right!" Dib said as he stood, pulling up his pants. "You'll never get away with, with..." 

What the hell had Zim come here for anyway?

"Uh, what was your plan again?" 

Zim scowled. "Do not attempt to understand the ingenious machinations of Irk's finest invader, pitiful _human!_ " 

"Well whatever it is Zim, go ahead! Run away! I'll always be around to stop you!" 

He grinned, wiping his tunic off with an old shirt on the floor. Gross...

"Good. You better be."

And with that, Zim ascended on spindly metal legs and exited through the window. How no one ever noticed a giant, alien-spider creature crawling out of his window in broad daylight was beyond him. 

"See you later, _Dib_." 

  
____

  
Tugging the edge of his shirt over his pants was a bit of an empty gesture considering he was alone in his bedroom.

Okay, so _maybe_ Dib was a little excited. But only a little. 

He thought about Gaz's words, and reconsidered his initial reaction. Sure, admittedly their actions were, questionable, but that wasn't like, real _homebase_ sex, where they were naked in bed together and said 'I love you' or something. Which would never, _ever_ happen because he didn't love Zim. So, no, he didn't have to count it. He _shouldn't_ count it. He was right and Gaz was wrong. Just like always. 

And besides, there wasn't even any penetration...

  
  
The hot feeling he had been trying to ignore suddenly roared to a scorching fire. Was it even possible to fuck Zim? 

What would he feel like? Would he feel like a human? Could he self lubricate? What if his insides had weird ridges or bumps or tentacles? God, how thrilling would it be to take him in the middle of a fight? Pulling down his tight black pants, or maybe just ripping into them, while he shoved the invader into the ground and-

He cut his rapid thoughts off before they could go any further. 

No, that could never happen. Even if he wanted to fuck Zim, which he _didn't,_ there was no way Zim would ever want him to do that. Zim hated him. And he hated Zim. 

Dib chuckled. Yeah, there was no way they would have sex. _Ever_. 

With a level of self awareness somewhere between the basement and the bottom of the ocean, he reached for the bottle of unscented lotion under his bed. 


End file.
